


copacabana

by xahnadu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: I GOT A LITTLE CARRIED AWAY WITH JESSE'S THOUGHTS, M/M, Post-Recall, SUPPORTIVE MCGENJIS, because i wrote this instead of sleeping and wanted to make jesse feel bad, in which jesse left overwatch before genji did, lil bit of fluff, love them sm, slight angst, this is very jesse centered because i adore him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xahnadu/pseuds/xahnadu
Summary: Leaving Overwatch had meant leaving a lot of his teammates, too. He had disappeared without even saying goodbye to his closest friends. Guilt sat in his stomach for years, and it still did as he sat inside of the base.





	copacabana

**Author's Note:**

> hi its 2:00am and i cranked this sucker out while listening to copacabana by izal (good song, you should give it a listen)  
> not beta'd, pray 4 me because i wouldn't do this for any other ship (and because mcgenji always needs new content)
> 
> hope you enjoy!

When the doors to the Gibraltar base opened, it seemed to suck the fresh air into its recesses, like a gasp for oxygen. The air inside of the structure was stale— dust lined the floors and tables, clearly showing the building’s age despite its modern, sharp design.

The dust was stirred as Jesse McCree dropped his tarnished duffle on a mess hall table before dropping into a chair. He slouched with exhaustion. Taking off his hat could have been classified as a struggle. It had not been easy getting to Gibraltar; when he had received Winston’s call, he had been on a bounty hunt in southern Indiana, which just so happened to be a whole ocean and nearly 4300 miles away. For Jesse, it was a struggle to even get onto a train without being scrutinized, so he had to do some improvising. After all, once your face has been on both “wanted” and “hero” posters, it wasn’t uncommon for people to point you out, no matter how much time has passed. And others’ opinions of him varied greatly. So, he had to figure out a way to get across the Atlantic. Nothing illegal, of course. A lot of walking, sweet talking, and a little bit of gambling.

As he looked around the empty room, he noted how quiet it was. The last time he had been here, it had been this quiet too, everyone speaking in hushed whispers as one by one they realized that the end of Overwatch was upon them.

Jesse had made his exit before the noise was all gone, though. He had faded from Blackwatch when things started to heat up within the organization: people had started turning on each other, and he wanted no part of it. The tension in Overwatch had been like a fever, and Jesse had the feeling that a simple dose of ibuprofen wasn’t going to fix it. 

Leaving Overwatch had meant leaving a lot of his teammates, too. He had disappeared without even saying goodbye to his closest friends. Guilt sat in his stomach for years, and it still did as he sat inside of the base. 

He was slightly apprehensive returning to Overwatch. It wasn’t so much the possibility of being shoved in prison in violation of the PETRAS act (or the possibility of Overwatch falling apart again, if events repeat themselves) as it was reconnecting with old friends. As Jesse reclined in his seat, he was quietly listening for footsteps. He knew there were others already here, but as for which agents, he had no clue. He knew the big old gorilla lived here, and that was about it. 

Jesse groaned as he rose to his feet. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, exiting the mess hall and returning to the sleek labyrinth of the base.

He decided to wander around until he found someone— after all, there wasn’t exactly a specific place or time he was supposed to be there. It took him nearly a month to get to the damn base in the first place. 

The clinking of the spurs on his boots echoed through the empty halls as he made his way through the familiar halls. He looked to his left and spotted the long window that lined the medical bay. Jesse wouldn’t have known that someone had been in there if it weren’t for the soft glow of computer monitors and a steaming mug of coffee sitting on one of the desks. He stopped and looked through the window, lingering for a moment as he pondered whether or not he should step in.

Jesse’s thoughts were interrupted as a woman appeared. Angela Ziegler’s appearance in the medical bay surprised the cowboy— she had been the most cynical of Overwatch in its final months, and he didn’t blame her at all. What had compelled her to come back after all she had been through? 

The medic’s cerulean eyes moved from the papers she was holding to Jesse, making eye contact with him. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, but she said nothing. Instead, she waved a simple hello to him and he tipped his hat to her in return before continuing down the hall. 

He felt a little more at peace, but something was still bothering him. Something didn’t feel right to Jesse.

He spent another ten minutes wandering the building, spotting a few other agents: Lena, Torbjörn, Reinhardt, among others. He shared a few words with them, chatting about their arrivals. There were a few others he didn’t recognize. 

Jesse found himself wandering towards the west wing. The west wing had been reserved mostly for the armory, with a small portion of it reserved for Blackwatch members. Since Blackwatch had been a subgroup within Overwatch, the head honchos had deemed it suitable to give the covert ops taskforce their own portion of the building, which had been both a blessing and a curse. 

After another two or three minutes of navigating the base, he came upon the aforementioned doors. He pushed one open and made his way past the armory. Little was left in it, most likely because it had been ransacked by fleeing members or thieves who managed to sneak in. 

Finally, he arrived at the double doors with the Blackwatch emblem scratched onto it. Jesse felt a bittersweet nostalgia creep in at the sight of the emblem. There were times when he missed it dearly, and others when he cursed its name.

The bounty hunter pushed through the doors into the dark, dimly lit hallway. It was rather small, as Blackwatch had never been a big group. A few private quarters, a conference room, etc,. Standard for a group like Blackwatch.

Jesse spotted an ajar door with a light shining through the crack. He knew which room that was. His pulse picking up speed, he strode towards the door and pushed it open.

He didn’t recognize the person sitting on the bed at first. The green and silver armor was attire that Jesse was unfamiliar with, opposite of the black and red he had been used to. But he knew who it was. How could he ever forget?

“Jesse,” a familiar voice said, interrupting the silence. The green and silver man rose to his feet and turned to face Jesse.

The cowboy dropped his duffle and wasted no time moving to embrace him. “Genji,” Jesse breathed. He felt Genji’s arms tighten around him, and they stayed like that for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe. Neither of them had any words, and peaceful silence reigned.

Jesse, on impulse, reached for the familiar latches that held Genji’s faceplate in place. He hesitated at the last moment, retracting his hands. He wasn’t sure if Genji would be okay with Jesse trying to uncover his face— he remembered how acutely aware of his appearance Genji had been, how disgusted he had been with his own body. Jesse had only ever seen his face twice in the time they had known each other: once was an accident, and the second a moment of vulnerability. The first thing Jesse had wanted to do when he saw Genji then was look at the face behind the mask, the face he had cherished, even when Genji hadn’t. But did Genji feel comfortable with the exposure of his face?

They had a history, those two. Jack, Gabriel, and Angela were the three who were aware of the close bond between Jesse and Genji. While Jesse was wary of Genji’s arrival in Blackwatch, the two bonded on their missions. It took a while to get Genji out of his shell, but he eventually found a degree of comfort with Jesse, who helped the cybernetic man get through his worst days when his phantom pain was acting up, or when he was completely repulsed by his body. And Genji helped Jesse through _his_ worst days, where he would arrive back at HQ completely covered in filth, refusing to speak a word, or even take care of himself. Depression sometimes overwhelmed Jesse, and Genji made sure that he got through it. 

Which is why Jesse didn’t know where they stood after he got up and left Overwatch, and ultimately Genji, without a word.

Genji reached for Jesse’s hands, cupping them in his and bringing them back to his helmet. With a click the plate released, revealing Genji’s pale, scarred face. He scrunched his nose at Jesse’s appearance. “You’re filthy,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’d probably look more handsome if you weren’t covered in grime.” 

Jesse laughed, though his nerves made his knees weak. The laughter faded, though, leaving the two in silence once more as they stared at each other. Jesse, after a few moments, pulled Genji into another tight embrace, lacing his non-prosthetic fingers through Genji’s black hair. “I never said anything to you. I just left,” he mumbled, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m sorry.” His voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Genji was silent for a moment, resting his head on Jesse’s shoulder. One of his hands tapped on the cowboy’s free shoulder, entangling his fingers in the dirt-stained serape. “It’s okay, Jesse,” he whispered back. “Your reasons were valid.” 

In reality, when Jesse had disappeared near the end of Overwatch, Genji had been devastated. However, he didn’t express it in sadness. Instead, he took out his emotions in combat and, later, he found peace under the tutelage of Zenyatta. He had truly forgiven Jesse, despite the intense feelings of anger and worry his disappearance had caused Genji to experience. In all honesty, Genji thought that he had never been angry with Jesse in the first place, but with himself instead.

It was like a thousand pound weight being taken off of his shoulders. Jesse hugged him tighter, squeezing his eyes shut while burying his face into Genji’s neck. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Genji murmured. He pulled away and pressed a kiss to Jesse’s cheek. A smile graced his lips. “You and I have a lot to talk about, Jesse McCree. I’ve heard stories.”

“All good ones, I hope?”

“Don’t know. You tell me.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love comments! tell me what you thought of it!


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